Soon the Missouri football team will leave its team hotel and start the drive to Memorial Stadium. The buses will pull into the parking lot across the street, and the players will walk over the stretch of concrete and brick suspended above Providence Road as they make their way through the family and fans who gather to wish them good luck before the game. They will smile and shake hands as they move through the crowd. But they will stop when they get to Johnson.

“I give them all hugs,” she says. “They’ll come for hugs, most of them.”

She is standing where she always stands two hours before home games, at the closest spot to the last step on the bridge. She wears a gold fleece, black pants and shoes, a black and gold bracelet and tigers on her earrings. Her fingernails are painted gold. The third finger on her right hand has millimeterwide black stripes.

She’s always been a fan, even when her husband’s job in the military took them to Omaha, Neb.

“We were never Big Red,” she says. “I’ll tell you that.”

Retirement meant the couple got to come back to Columbia.

“We love it,” she says.

It’s five until nine, and the crowd is getting restless.

Bodies now line the side of the bridge and form a tunnel at the bottom.

Players’ families wear jerseys and buttons and wait for their chance to wish their sons and brothers and cousins good luck. Some can’t make it to the home games, so Johnson makes sure to cut out newspaper articles and mail the so they can see the pictures.

Youngsters stick close to their parents’ legs as they wait for a chance to high-five their heroes.